


sburbia

by lemon lin (Citrusgrape)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: I hope the cuteness lasts...., I'll tag as I go but really its just a big fluff fest, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Citrusgrape/pseuds/lemon%20lin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Bro is transferred to the new Bad Dragon Headquarters in Washington as director of dildo design, he and Dave are dragged into "picturesque" suburbia. They set up shop right next to the Egberts, but how many pies to the face can the Striders take before they snap? Will John ever learn to sleep through techno rap remixes and the haunting sound of a dozen vibrators going off at once? Stay tuned to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Apple Pie and Picket Fences

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 16:13 -- 

TG: hey so I'm on this plane  
TG: soarin  
TG: flyin  
TG: there's not a star in heaven that we cant reach  
TT: There's a fine line between ironic and pathetic and you straddle it so effortlessly.  
TT: Truly, it's a gift to be admired.  
TG: if you think for one fucking second that i would quote high school musical unironically youre not as smart as ive come to believe  
TT: Did you just admit to my massive intellect?  
TG: oh look at that planes taking off  
TG: cant have any electronics  
TG: gotta go fast  
TG: bye  
TT: Did you know that Sonic the Hedgehog is known in the psychoanalytical community as a stark indicator of a Freudian Complex?  
TG: what bros right next to me thats not cool  
TG: look what youve done now ill be second guessing everytime i share a shitty airline pretzel with him  
TG: oh shit the flight attendant is giving me the evil eye  
TG: either that or shes mackin on me i dont know which one is worse  
TG: i gotta turn this off before she either punches me in the face or starts kissing my face  
TT: Alright, David. Sure.  


\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 16:17 --

TT: Have a safe trip.


	2. ASL?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Dave meet for the first time on a plane to Washington.

Your name is Dave Strider and you feel like some shitty Bella Swan wannabe. You sigh as you stare out the tiny, bird shit flecked window and easily tune out the flight attendant as she rambles about emergency exits in Spanish. Swarming the airplane are runway workers, dressed in over-saturated orange vests and giant earmuffs. They're probably sweating their asses off trying to lift your luggage but you don't dwell on it.

  
You shut down the ironically angsty instrumental music playing on your iPhone and stick it into your backpack with the rest of your crap. Your Bro stretches out in the seat next to you, his anime shades perched snuggly atop his nose. You remember the shitstorm going through security was, as the TSA people made a small mountain out of all the swords and katanas and shurigans and nunchuks they confiscated from you and your Bro. It was sad to see all the flimzy weaponry go, but it was also pretty far fetched to think you and Bro could strife on top of a commercial jet. You sigh and prop your head in one hand. A man can dream.

  
The floor rumbles underneath you as the plane speeds down the runway. The plane starts to ascend and for a moment you feel both weightless and a thousand times heavier. Then suddenly gravity is back to normal, your stomach is where it should be and the world is shrinking underneath you. Dallas sprawls outside your window as patches of green and tan with veins of silver. Minuscule cars filled with microscopic people move as slow as molasses from your angle and for a moment you wonder if this is what being a bird feels like. Or godzilla. Cause you're poetic like that.

Suddenly you remember the friend you left hanging and snatch up your backpack again a little guiltily. It was kind of douchebaggy to cut her off like that, especially since she was being sarcastic for once. At least you hope she was being sarcastic.

The backpack clenched in your hands, you can't help but sneak a glance at your Bro through your shades. Even with your sunglasses, however, he still catches you looking and quirks his head almost imperceptibly in your direction. "You alright, sugarlumps?"

"Yeah, just, uh, is the gum in your bag or mine?" Smooth, you think to yourself a little bitterly. You are so fucking smooth. Smooth as a fucking banana pulverized by blades-  
"Your bag," he says with a hint of humor in his voice. It's as if he fucking knows you're thinking about a weird mix of incest, sonic the hedge hog, and bananas. You hope to god he doesn't.

You pull out your iPhone and your Bazooka Bubble Gum, placing a huge wad of the stuff in your mouth. It kind of hurts to put in your earbuds with your jaw practically unhinging trying to chew all this pink shit, but you don't particularly care. You blow a huge bubble just as Gary Jules fills your ears with the song Mad World. You can't help it. You stare soulfully out at the world below you, or at least what you can see of it over your flaming pink bubble. You pop the bubble and scrape your teeth over your lips to get rid of the residue, all the while pretending to be a melancholy teenage girl off to a new town. You can almost hear your pretend mother crooning "It's alright, dear, I'm sure the kids at your new school will love you."

"You just don't get it," you mutter under your breath. "What if the boy's aren't cute?"

You're snapped out of your reverie to realize that the pretend mother was actually Bro being concerned about you looking so sad. At the moment, he was snickering at your reply. Your face goes warm as you stutter out some shitty explanation about daydreaming and melodramatic teenagers and Bro pretends to believe you. Huffing, you slouch in your seat and fiddle with pesterchum. Rose just blinked offline, Terezi and Karkat are in school and Jade is probably cuddling with a sloth or whatever the fuck lives on her island. How does she even have wi-fi? You just don't know.

Tapping impatiently on the armrest, you click "find a random chum to pester". You're so bored at this point, you just want someone to rap at.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:25 --  
TG: yo anyone here?????  
EB: hello! (:   
TG: oh god I can already tell you're a happy camper  
EB: and you sound like quite the grumpy pants.

This was a horrible idea. You tap your phone against your head as a substitute for banging your head against the wall. But you started this, you can't just back out now. Groaning internally, you dive back into the conversation.

TG: asl?  
EB: gesundheit.

You're going to fucking scream.

TG: it means "age sex location" man  
EB: oh!!  
EB: well, I'm a guy and I just turned 18, but I don't think I should be giving my location to strangers. XP  
TG: i guess thats smart seeing as im a horny middle aged man seeking a hot twink  
EB: seriously!? :0  
TG: wow no if we're gonna talk I think I need to explain something to you  
TG: see theres this magical thing called sarcasm  
EB: are you being sarcastic right now too?  
TG: youre a quick learner EB i respect that  
EB: i know we just met but, are you always this much of a prick?

You smile just slightly. Maybe this kid's not so bad after all.

TG: absolutely  
TG: i am 100% prick  
TG: little balloon children have nightmares about me  
EB: ehehehehe.  
EB: you're actually kinda fun. contact request?  
TG: go for it my man

A little contact request popped up on the edge of your screen "ectoBiologist wants to be chums with you! Accept?" You click yes and raise an eyebrow at his icon. Ghostbusters? Really? You can't really complain though, seeing as your own icon is a shitty drawing of stairs

EB: oh, gotta go, I think my teacher caught me texting. :( See you later!

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:37 --

You relax a little more comfortably in your chair, no longer hunching over your iPhone screen. The flight attendant hands you your complementary apple juice and you relish the taste for as long as possible. Soon all the juice is gone and all there's left to do is sleep and dream of sonic the hedge hog, so you do.


	3. Be ectoBiologist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young man stands in his classroom. It just so happens that today, the 13th of April, is this young man's birthday. Though it was eighteen years ago he was given life, it is only today he will be given a name! 
> 
> What will the name of this young man be?

Your name is John Egbert and you are deathly afraid of your teacher. 

It's not like he would do anything to hurt you, but his scars and fake eye give you the creeps. His hair is always matted and a little too long and you remember when you got a 44 on a quiz and he literally growled at you. Since then you've been extra careful about hiding your shenanigans in his class. 

He bares his teeth and slams his meaty hands on your desk, his breath smelling of rotted meat, stale beer, and the souls of countless students. You gulp back fear and tip your chair far enough back to not smell his disgusting miasma of breath. "Detention Friday," he barked, giving you one last glare before continuing on with his lesson. How that man got a teaching degree in physics you'll never understand seeing as all he does is ramble on about aliens from a planet called Alternia and his reoccurring dream where he killed everyone there. You wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Becquerel-Noir killed you too in those dreams, seeing how he always stares at you like your grade A steak. 

You shudder and plunge back into your worksheet, ignoring the pitying looks coming from your classmates. Once the bell rings, you casually sprint to your beat up car and, once you're inside, nonchalantly lock all the doors. In your pocket, your phone vibrates and you check to see who it is. 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 13:50 --  
TG: being in a plane is so fucking boring  
TG: my mad rhymes got the bitches roaring  
TG: but deep deep down im fucking snoring  
TG: more than I ever could know like this change in flow  
TG: check out this tempo and the rhythms and shit  
TG: cause I be sounding like Nikki Minaj bitch  
TG: you listen you glisten you bask in my tones  
TG: and when the base drops all the ladies moan  
TG: cause all this is for coolkids no losers allowed  
TG: thats why I'm stopping this right fucking now  
TG: *mic drop*  
TG: seriously though planes are boring as shit  
TG: who even fucking invented this thing, the wrong brothers????  
TG: ok looking back on that joke just made me sick like i actually threw up in my mouth a bit it was so bad  
TG: planes throw me off my game man i blame the screaming baby behind me and the turbulence  
TG: this is a fucking giant ass plane a little gust of wind shouldnt be making my stomach backflip into the sun   
TG: praise jesus were finally landing ttyl  
\--turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 14:15 --

You chuckle and shake your head at the sheer stupidity in... whatever that even was. Rap? Poetry? Even when re-reading it, you're not very sure.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 14:15 --  
EB: well, that sure was something, TG!  
TG: if by something you mean epic than you are absolutely spot on  
EB: hahaha, you're hilarious!  
EB: actually though, I have something I should confess to.  
TG: If its your undying love im not interested

You worry your lip between your teeth, your overbite peeking through more prominently as you focus on typing.

EB: i knew what ASL was.  
EB: ....  
EB: TG?  
TG: i think i need a moment to process this i cant believe you lied to me like this  
TG: i trusted you look what youve done to our relationship  
EB: oh, and another thing.  
EB: i'm seeing another woman.  
TG: its your secretary isnt oh god i knew i should have treated you better  
EB: it's not you it's me!  
TG: no this is it  
TG: were done  
TG: i want a divorce  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 14:20 --

You grin and open a new conversation to complain about your teacher. Vriska is online but you're not sure it would be wise to talk to her. She's pretty notorious for not so empty death threats. Sure you could talk to her boyfriend Tavros but you never get satisfaction from complaining to him. Maybe it's because you feel bad for the guy and bitching and moaning to a guy who has it way worse off is kind of a dick move. 

"Yeah," you muse to yourself out loud. "Having Vriska as a girlfriend must really suck! Poor guy...."

Last on your list of chumhandles are Jake and Jane, but both are offline. You shrug, adrenaline draining from your system and peel out of the parking lot to head home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short and really rather pointless, I'm just taking John out for a test drive. I'm not sure if I'm really doing him justice, though, since this is my first time writing as him. I want to avoid making him some happy go lucky shmuck but I also don't want him to be a total douchebag. Tell me what you think!


	4. Close encounters of the awkward kind

You awake to the sweet fragrance of lemon meringue baking in the oven, a slight breeze raising goosebumps on your skin. You revel in the sheer tranquility of it all, listening to birds chirping and the creak of an empty tire swing. There's something so overwhelmingly poetic about it, if only you could put it into words. It takes you maybe ten minutes before you kick off your down comforter and arch your back off the mattress, shoulders pressing into the slowly rusting springs. God, you need a shower. With one more large inhale of the spring air, you hop off the bed cheerfully and sling a towel over your shoulder. 

It takes a little while for the water to reach the right temperature, so you let it run as you brush your teeth. The quick strokes of the bristles on your teeth almost synchronize with the water as it barrages the bottom of the porcelain tub. Glancing at the slowly fogging mirror, you flash a smile, rolling your eyes back and pretending the foam of toothpaste was, in fact, that of a feral zombie. You're probably the most cheerful zombie out there, you're just optimistic like that. 

You spit into the sink and wipe away the dribble on your chin with the back of your hand. You'll be cleaning yourself in a few minutes, anyways. With your glasses placed carefully at the edge of your sink, you slip out of your shirt ("Despite all my rage, I'm still just Nicolas Cage") and toss it to the side. Though you'd never admit it, you shamelessly checked yourself out. You are definitely nice and lean, and your summer job in construction really helped with your muscle tone, but it's been months since you've done anything seriously athletic. Almost in wonder, you drag your hand through your disheveled hair and wonder if that's what it would look like after just having sex. You definitely wouldn't know. 

Sighing at the depressing reality that you are most definitely a little virginy virgin mcvirginface, you casually untie the string that cinched around your waist and let the baggy pajama bottoms pool on the floor. "Shit," you mutter to yourself as you remember the running water behind you. Quickly, you spin the shower knob to a lower temperature and hop in, letting the warm water flow over your skin. After spacing out and just enjoying the roar of water flying past your ears and the way the pressure massaged into your chest, you snap out of it and focus on lathering up your hair. 

The white bubbles thicken once in contact with your jet black hair, your hands molding the strands into various shapes. Despite not being able to see your creations, you take pride in clumping every lock of hair into a smooth triangle on your head. The meticulously sculpted foam pyramid on your head dips underneath the water and flattens near instantly, shampoo running down your face in semi-translucent, off white streaks. You make sure no dandruff remains and wipe the soap from your eyes. The tiles on the wall touch your back for a split second and send chills down your spine and once more you become enamored with the sheer perfection of the morning. Once your back has warmed to the tiles, you let your newly cleaned hair stick to your forehead in wet tangles and listen to the sounds outside for a little longer. Wind rustling through leaves, the flap of a birds wings, the distant sound of spice gir-- wait, what? 

Curious, you turn off the water and go up to your bathroom window, a towel wrapped around your hair. The window was originally a construction error, since it was literally right next to the neighbors house. Right. Next. A ledge connected the two windows on the second floor, and so far it hasn't been an issue. The old owners of the home were too old to bother with going up and down stairs, instead just leaving the upstairs barren. It's really worked out for you, since leaving it open lets out a little steam in the summer and it's nice to hear birdsong while brushing your teeth. 

Today was different, however. Today, you forgot about your new neighbors. 

One of them was sunbathing on the ledge between your windows, cuddling up to a fucking _boombox_.

You want to scream, but you're also naked and covered in cool beads of water. With closer inspection, you realize this guy on your ledge isn't much better off, sporting nothing but mismatched socks, some boxers (hearts boxcars themed, you could even say.... hearts boxercars), and pointy anime shades. If douchebaggery was a form of radiation, you'd need a lead bodysuit. The Spice Girls song ends, and you see him slowly stretching, probably waking up. Hastily, you pull your towel from your hair to your waist right when he sits up and sees your face.

"...'Sup?"

Sup? Fucking sup? You're naked, sopping wet, and he's right outside your bathroom window saying "sup". You feel confused and almost disappointed things ended up so anticlimactic. "Hey, you must be the new neighbor."

"Guilty as charged." He slid just a little bit closer, sticking a fist through your window for you to bump. You almost use the hand grasping at your towel, but if he saw the slip up it sure wasn't registering on his face. "Nice weather, huh."

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. "Look, I've still gotta get dressed..."

"Oh, yeah shit man do your morning thing like I was just about to head inside anyways." He pointed to his own open window. 

"Okay, cool," you reply, a little bewildered this conversation was happening at all. "Before you go, what's your name?"

"Strider, Dave Strider." You can actually hear how practiced that was. Next thing you know, he'll be saying-- "I like my martini's shaken, not stirred." Oh god, there it is. Is that a cocky smirk you see? You roll your eyes before you can stop yourself, and to your chagrin his smirk only grows wider. 

"My name's John." You hear your Dad calling for you downstairs, whatever he was making probably in need of a test taster. Apparently Dave hears too because he's already saluting goodbye, grabbing his boombox, and sliding through his own window. "COMING, DAD!" you call back, carefully draping your towel over the window pane. It takes no time to grab a shirt and jeans, the belt cinched around your waist halfway down the stairs. What first hits you is the sweet scent of lemon meringue, the sugary aroma decadent and swirling with a slight tarty zest. Despite your distaste for confectionery goods, the smells always tended to lift your spirits. 

You grab a slice to appease your Dad and he ruffles your damp hair fondly. After a little while, you duck away, complaining lightheartedly that his hair was going to be messed up for the rest of the day. For once your Dad takes the hint that you are simply joking and waves you away, saying something about how you should be out enjoying nature and how proud of you he is. Once your outside, though, a thought strikes you.

Pie + Dave Strider's face = Brilliant.

You are such a genius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shirt actually exists and it's absolutely beautiful: http://31.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzmiohCJcF1qzg3hlo1_500.png 
> 
> My Dave is feeling a little off recently so it may take a little while again for another update but hey at least this chapters a little longer than the rest I mean at least there's that
> 
> As per usual I have no clue what I'm doing so feel free to critique. If you see any stupid grammatical errors, confusing sentences, or misuse of words don't hesitate to call me out on that, I got no beta for this ATM. Thanks for reading and have a nice johndave day~


End file.
